yj^^ft. livifi";-.)' ■:, in'^!'«;Uu.-/':':-;'.---".^.^;T., •;::,.;' " >^-Un\»V:»^(i^'?.r:;>- . :; ,; .;■ )!ltl'«'»:f;^;i^, • ..'Vi -", :'::ri;l ' ji /.'Vi.ii;.- ■::'i'.' ■'•V'-'.' i.;;.;'i.-, \V ^'~,'' ' .•' ".1 ,'.1 V/.'/"' ' ' . • ' . 1 .'■':''•: • \ '^^ .v'^V'-' •«''V-'v i^ .V.;'; ' r- ; I ^T»^. .- , Book ,1^ Sg Cop}'n§lil X" ^1 t'h^i^ ^ COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. r ^X^.?" 77Z. e.r-(r^ ^/'-y SELECT POEMS OF THOMAS GRAY, Edited, with Notes, BY WILLIAM J. ROLFE, A.M., FORMERLY HEAD MASTER OF THE HIGH SCHOOL, CAMBRIDGE, MASS. WITH ENGRA VINGS. ^i WaSHAV^^. NEW YORK: HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE. 1876. 5. nf Entered according to Act of Congress, In the year 1876, by Harper & Brothers, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. PREFACE. Many editions of Gray have been published in the last fifty years, some of them very elegant, and some showing considerable editorial labor, but not one, so far as I am aware, critically exact either in text or in notes. No editor since Mathias (a.d. 1814) has given the 2d line of the Elegy as Gray wrote and printed it ; while Mathias's mispunctua- tion of the 123d line has been copied by his successors, almost without exception. Other variations from the early editions are mentioned in the notes. It is a curious fact that the most accurate edition of Gray's collected poems is the editio princeps of 1 768, printed under his own supervision. The first edition of the two Pindaric odes. The Progress of Poesy and The Bard (Strawberry- Hill, 1757), was printed with equal care, and the proofs were probably read by the poet. The text of the present edition has been collated, line by line, with that of these early editions, and in but one instance {Elegy ^ 35) have I adopted a later reading. All the MS. variations, and the various readings I have noted in the modern editions, are given in the notes. Pickering's edition of 1835, edited by Mitford, has been followed blindly in nearly all the more recent editions, and its many errors (see pp. 84 and 105, foot-notes) have been faithfully reproduced. Even its blunders in the " indenting " of the lines in the corresponding stanzas of the two Pindaric odes, which any careful proof-reader ought to have corrected, have been copied again and again — as in the Boston (1853) reprint of Pickering, the pretty little edition of Bickers & Son (London, n. d.), the fac-simile of the latter printed at our University Press, Cambridge (1866), etc. Of former editions of Gray, the only one very fully annotated is Mit- ford's (Pickering, 1835), already mentioned. I have drawn freely from that, correcting many errors, and also from Wakefield's and Mason's editions, and from Hales's notes (Longer English Poems, London, 1872) on the Elegy and the Pindaric odes. To all this material many original notes and illustrations have been added. The facts concerning the first publication of the Elegy are not given correctly by any of the editors, and even the " experts " of N'otes and VI PREFACE, Queries have not been able to disentangle the snarl of conflicting evi- dence. I am not sure that I have settled the question myself (see p. 74 and foot-note), but I have at least shown that Gray is a more credible witness in the case than any of his critics. Their testimony is obviously inconsistent and inconclusive ; he may have confounded the names of two magazines, but that remains to be proved.* I have retained most of the " parallel passages " from the poets given by the editors, and have added others, without regard to the critics who have sneered at this kind of annotations. Whether Gray borrowed from the others, or the others from him, matters little ; very likely, in most in- stances, neither party was consciously the borrower. Gray, in his own notes, has acknowledged certain debts to other poets, and probably these were all that he was aware of. Some of these he contracted unwittingly (see what he says of one of them in a letter to Walpole, quoted in the note on the Ode on the Spring, 31), and the same may have been true of some apparently similar cases pointed out by modern editors. To me, however, the chief interest of these coincidences and resemblances of thought or expression is as studies in the "comparative anatomy" of poetry. The teacher will find them useful as pegs to hang questions upon, or texts for oral instruction. The pupil, or the young reader, who finds out who all these poets were, when they lived, what they wrote, etc., will have learned no small amount of English literary history. If he studies the quotations merely as illustrations of style and expression, or as examples of the poetic diction of various periods, he will have learned some lessons in the history and the use of his mother-tongue. The wood-cuts on pp. 9, 25, 26, 27, 28, 30, 34, 36, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43» 5o» and 61 are from Birket Foster's designs ; those on pp. 29, 31, 33, 35, 37, and 38 are from the graceful drawings of " E. V. B." (the Hon. Mrs. Boyle) ; the rest are from various sources, Cambridge, Feb. 29, 1876. * Since writing the above to-day, I have found by the merest chance in my own library another bit of evidence in the case, which fully confirms my surmise that the Elegy was printed in The Magazine of Magazines before it appeared in the Grand Magazine of Magazines. Chambers- s Book of Days (vol. ii. p. 146), in an article on *' Gray and his Elegy," says: " It first saw the light in The Magazine of Magazines^ February, 1751. Some imag- inary literary wag is made to rise in a convivial assembly, and thus announce it : ' Gentle- men, give me leave to soothe my own melancholy, and amuse you in a most noble manner, with a full copy of verses by the very ingenious Mr. Gray, of Peterhouse, Cambridge. They are stanzas written in a country churchyard.' Then follow the verses. A few days afterwards, Dodsley's edition appeared," etc. The same authority gives the four stanzas omitted after the i8th (see p. 79) as they appear in the North American Review, except that the first line of the third is " Hark how the sacred calm that reigns around," a reading which I have found nowhere else. The stanza " There scattered oft," etc. (p. 81), is given as in the review. The reading on p. 82 must be a later one. CONTENTS. PAGE THE LIFE OF THOMAS GRAY, by Robert Carruthers.. 9 STOKE-POGIS, BY William Howiit 16 ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD.... 23 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 43 On the Spring 45 On the Death of a Favourite Cat 48 On a Distant Prospect of Eton College 50 The Progress of Poesy 55 The Bard 61 Hymn to Adversity 68 NOTES 71 Appendix to Notes 138 INDEX 145 STOKE- POGIS CHURCH. THE LIFE OF THOMAS GRAY. By Robert Carruthers. Thomas Gray, the author of the celebrated Elegy written in a Country Churchyard^ was born in Cornhill, London, De- cember 26, 1716. His father, Philip Gray, an exchange bro- ker and scrivener, was a wealthy and nominally respectable citizen, but he treated his family with brutal severity and neg- lect, and the poet was altogether indebted for the advantages, of a learned education to the affectionate care and industry of his mother, whose maiden name was Antrobus, and who, in conjunction with a maiden sister, kept a millinery shop. A brother of Mrs. Gray was assistant to the Master of Eton, and was also a fellow of Pembroke College, Cambridge. Under his protection the poet was educated at Eton, and from thence went to Peterhouse, attending college from 1734 to Septem- lo THE LIFE OF THOMAS GRAY, ber, 1738. At Eton he had as contemporaries Richard West, son of the Lord Chancellor of Ireland,.and Horace Walpole, son of the triumphant Whig minister, Sir Robert Walpole. West died early in his 26th year, but his genius and virtues and his sorrows will forever live in the correspondence of his friend. In the spring of 1739, Gray was invited by Horace Walpole to accompany him as travelling companion in a tour through France and Italy. They made the usual route, and Gray wrote remarks on all he saw in Florence, Rome, Naples, etc. His observations on arts and antiqui- ties, and his sketches of foreign manners, evince his admir- able taste, learning, and discrimination. Since Milton, no such accomplished English traveller had visited those classic shores. In their journey through Dauphiny, Gray's attention was strongly arrested by the wild and picturesque site of the Grande Chartreuse, surrounded by its dense forest of beech and fir, its enormous precipices, cliffs, and cascades. He visited it a second time on his return, and in the album of the mountain convent he wrote his famous Alcaic Ode. At Reggio the travellers quarrelled and parted. Walpole took the whole blame on himself. He was fond of pleasure and amusements, " intoxicated by vanity, indulgence, and the in- solence of his situation as a prime minister's son " — his own confession — while Gray was studious, of a serious disposition, and independent spirit. The immediate cause of the rupture is said to have beenWalpole's clandestinely opening, reading, and resealing a letter addressed to Gray, in which he expect- ed to find a confirmation of his suspicions that Gray had been writing unfavourably of him to some friends in England. A partial reconciliation was effected about three years after- wards by the intervention of a lady, and Walpole redeemed his youthful error by a life-long sincere admiration and re- spect for his friend. From Reggio Gray proceeded to Venice, and thence travelled homewards, attended by a laquais de voyage. He arrived in England in September, 1741, having THE LIFE OF THOMAS GRAY, II been absent about two years and a half. His father died in November, and it was found that the poet^s fortune would not enable him to prosecute the study of the law. He therefore retired to Cambridge, and fixed his residence at the univer- sity. There he continued for the remainder of his life, with the exception of about two years spent in London, when the treasures of the British Museum were thrown open. At Cam- bridge he had the range of noble libraries. His happiness consisted in study, and he perused with critical attention the Greek and Roman poets, philosophers, historians, and orators. Plato and the Anthologia he read and annotated with great care, as if for publication. He compiled tables of Greek chronology, added notes to Linnaeus and other naturalists, wrote geographical disquisitions on Strabo ; and, besides be- ing familiar ^ith French and Italian literature, was a zealous archaeological student, and profoundly versed in architecture, botany, painting, and music. In all departments of human learning, except mathematics, he was a master. But it follows that one so studious, so critical, and so fastidious, could not be a voluminous writer. A few poems include all the orig- inal compositions of Gray — the quintessence, as it were, of thirty years of ceaseless study and contemplation, irradiated by bright and fitful gleams of inspiration. In 1742 Gray composed his Ode to Springy his Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College^ and his Ode to Adversity — productions which most readers of poetry can repeat from memory. He com- menced a didactic poem. On the Alliance of Education and Government^ but wrote only about a hundred lines. Every reader must regret that this philosophical poem is but a frag- ment. It is in the style and measure of Dryden, of whom Gray was an ardent admirer and close student. His Elegy written in a Country Churchyard v^2iS completed and published in 1 75 1. In the form of a sixpenny brochure it circulated rapidly, four editions being exhausted the first year. This popularity surprised the poet. ' He said sarcastically that it 12 THE LIFE OF THOMAS GRAY. was owing entirely to the subject, and that the public would have received it as well if it had been written in prose. The solemn and affecting nature of the poem, applicable to all ranks and classes, no doubt aided its sale ; it required high poetic sensibility and a cultivated taste to appreciate the rapid transitions, the figurative language, and lyrical magnificence of the odes \ but the elegy went home to all hearts ; while its musical harmony, originality, and pathetic train of sentiment and feeling render it one of the most perfect of English poems. No vicissitudes of taste or fashion have afiected its popularity. When the original manuscript of the poem was lately (1854) offered for sale, it brought the almost incredible sum of ;^i3i. The two great odes of Gray, 2^he Progress of Poetry and The Bard^were published in 1757, and were but coldly received. His name, however, stood high, and on the death of Gibber, the same year, he was offered the laureate- ship, which he wisely declined. He was ambitious, however, of obtaining the more congenial and dignified appointment of Professor of Modern History in the University of Gam- bridge, which fell vacant in 1762, and, by the advice of his friends, he made application to Lord Bute, but was unsuccess- ful. Lord Bute had designed it for the tutor of his son-in-law, Sir James Lowther. No one had heard of the tutor, but the Bute influence was all-prevailing. In 1765 Gray took a jour- ney into Scotland, penetrating as far north as Dunkeld and the Pass of Killiecrankie ; and his account of his tour, in letters to his friends, is replete with interest and with touches of his peculiar humour and graphic description. One other poem proceeded from his pen. In 1 768 the Professorship of Modern History was again vacant, and the Duke of Grafton bestowed it upon Gray. A sum of ;^4oo per annum was thus added to his income ; but his health was precarious — he had lost it, he said, just when he began to be easy in his circumstances. The nomination of the Duke of Grafton to the office of Chancel- lor of the University enabled Gray to acknowledge the favour THE LIFE OF THOMAS GRAY. 13 conferred on himself. He thought it better that gratitude should sing than expectation, and he honoured his grace's in- stallation with an ode. Such occasional productions are sel- dom happy ; but Gray preserved his poetic dignity and select beauty of expression. He made the founders of -Cambridge, as Mr. Hallam has remarked, "pass before our eyes like shadows over a magic glass." When the ceremony of the installation was over, the poet-professor went on a tour to the lakes of Cumberland and Westmoreland, and few of the beauties of the lake-country, since so famous, escaped his ob- servation. This was to be his last excursion. While at din- ner one day in the college-hall he was seized with an attack of gout in his stomach, which resisted all the powers of med- icine, and proved fatal in less than a week. He died on the 30th of July, 1771, and was buried, according to his own de- sire, beside the remains of his mother at Stoke-Pogis, near Slough, in Buckinghamshire, in a beautiful sequestered village churchyard that is supposed to have furnished the scene of his elegy."* The literary habits and personal peculiarities * A claim has been put up for the churchyard of Granchester, about two miles from Cambridge, the great bell of St. Mary's serving for the "curfew." But Stoke-Pogis is more likely to have been the spot, if any individual locality were indicated. The poet often visited the village, his aunt and mother residing there, and his aunt was interred in the church- yard of the place. Gray's epitaph on his mother is characterized not only by the tenderness with which he always regarded her memory, but by his style and cast of thought. It runs thus : " Beside her friend and sister here sleep the remains of Dorothy Gray, widow, the careful, tender mother of many children, one of whom alone had the misfortune to survive her. She died March 11, 1753, aged 72." She had lived to read the Elegy^ which was perhaps an ample recompense for her maternal cares and af- fection. Mrs. Gray's will commences in a similar touching strain : " In the name of God, amen. This is the last will and desire of Dorothy Gray to her son Thomas Gray." [Cunningham's edit, of Johnson^s Lives.\ They were all in all to each other. The father's cruelty and neglect, their straitened circumstances, the sacrifices made by the mother to maintain her son at the university, her pride in the talents and conduct of that son, and the increasing gratitude and aifection of the latter, nursed in his scho- 14 THE LIFE OF THOMAS GRAY, of Gray are familiar to us from the numerous representa- tions and allusions of his friends. It is easy to fancy the recluse-poet sitting in his college-chambers in the old quad- rangle of Pembroke Hall. His windows are ornamented wdth mignonette and choice flowers in China vases, but out- side may be discerned some iron-work intended to be ser- viceable as a fire-escape, for he has a horror of fire. His furniture is neat and select ; his books, rather for use than show, are disposed around him. He has a harpsichord in the room. In the corner of one of the apartments is a trunk containing his deceased mother's dresses, carefully folded up and preserved. His fastidiousness, bordering upon effem- inacy, is visible in his gait and manner — in his handsome features and small, well-dressed person, especially when he walks abroad and sinks the author and hard student in " the gentleman who sometimes writes for his amusement." He writes always with a crow-quill, speaks slowly and senten- tiously, and shuns the crew of dissonant college revellers, who call him " a prig," and seek to annoy him. Long morn- ings of study, and nights feverish from ill-health, are spent in those chambers ; he is often listless and in low spirits ; yet his natural temper is not desponding, and he delights in em- ployment. He has always something to learn or to commu- nicate — some sally of humour or quiet stroke of satire for his lastic and cloistered solitude — these form an affecting but noble record in the history of genius. [One would infer from the above that Mrs. Gray was not " interred in the churchyard of the place," though the epitaph given immediately after shows that she was. Gray in his will directed that he should be laid be- side her there. The passage in the will reads thus : " First, I do desire that my body may be deposited in the vault, made by my dear mother in the churchyard of Stoke- P.ogeis, near Slough in Buckinghamshire, by her remains, in a coffin of seasoned oak, neither lined nor covered, and (un- less it be inconvenient) I could wish that one of my executors may see me laid in the grave, and distribute among such honest and industrious poor persons in said parish as he thinks fit, the sum of ten pounds in charity."— ^rt'.] THE LIFE OF THOMAS GRAY, 15 friends and correspondents — some note on natural history to enter in his journal — some passage of Plato to unfold and illustrate — some golden thought of classic inspiration to in- lay on his page — some bold image to tone down — some verse to retouch and harmonize. His life is on the whole innocent and happy, and a feeling of thankfulness to the Great Giver is breathed over all. Various editions of the collected works of Gray have been published. The first, including memoirs of his life and his correspondence, edited by his friend, the Rev. W. Mason, ap- peared in 1775. It has been often reprinted, and forms the groundwork of the editions by Mathias (1814) and Mitford (1816). Mr. Mitford, in 1843, published Gray's correspond- ence with the Rev. Norton Nicholls; and in 1854 another collection of Gray's letters was published, edited also by Mr. Mitford. Every scrap of the poet's MSS. is eagerly sought after, and every year seems to add to his popularity as a poet and letter-writer. In 1778 a monument to Gray was erected in Westminster Abbey by Mason, with the following inscription : No more the Grecian muse unrivall'd reigns, To Britain let the nations homage pay ; She felt a Homer's fire in Milton's strains, A Pindar's rapture in the lyre of Gray. The cenotaph afterwards erected in Stoke Park by Mr. Penn is described below. WEST-END HOUSE. ^Oi.,' STOKE-POGIS. FROM HOWITT'S HOMES AND HAUNTS OF THE BRITISH POETS."* It is at Stoke-Pogis that we seek the most attractive ves- tiges of Gray. Here he used to spend his vacations, not only when a youth at Eton, but during the whole of his future life, while his mother and his aunts lived. Here it was that his Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College^ his celebrated Elegy written in a Couniry Churchyard^ and his Long Story were not only written, but were mingled with the circumstances and all the tenderest feelings of his own life. * Harper's edition, vol. i. p. 314 foil. STOKE 'POGIS, 17 His mother and aunts lived at an old-fashioned house in a very retired spot at Stoke, called West-End. This house stood in a hollow, much screened by trees. A small stream ran through the garden, and it is said that Gray used to em- ploy himself when here much in this garden, and that many of the trees still remaining are of his planting. On one side of the house extended an upland field, which was planted round so as to give a charming retired walk; and at the summit of the field was raised an artificial mound, and upon it was built a sort of arcade or summer-house, which gave full prospect of Windsor and Eton. Here Gray used to delight to sit ; here he was accustomed to read and write much ; and it is just the place to inspire the Ode o?t Eton College, which lay in the midst of its fine lancfscape, beautifully in view. The old house inhabited by Gray and his mother has just been pulled down, and replaced by an Elizabethan mansion by the present proprietor, Mr. Penn, of Stoke Park, just by."^ The garden, of course, has shared in the change, and now stands gay with its fountain and its modern greenhouse, and, excepting for some fine trees, no longer reminds you of Gray. The woodland walk still remains round the adjoining field, and tl^e summer-house on its summit, though now much cracked by time, and only held together by iron cramps. The trees are now so lofty that they completely obstruct the view, and shut out both Eton and Windsor. # ^ # # # # ## # Stoke Park is about a couple of miles from Slough. The * This was written (or published, at least) in 1846 ; but Mitford, in the Life of Gray prefixed to the "Eton edition" of his Poems, published in 1847, says ; "The house, which is now called West- End f\\es> in a secluded part of the parish, on the road to Fulmer. It has lately been much en- larged and adorned by its present proprietor [Mr. Penn], but the room called * Gray's ' (distinguished by a small balcony) is still preserved ; and a shady walk round an adjoining meadow, with a summer-house on the rising land, are still remembered as favourite places frequented by the poet."— ^^. B 1 8 STOKE- POGIS. country is flat, but its monotony is broken up by the noble character and disposition of its woods. Near the house is a fine expanse of water, across which the eye falls on fine views, particularly to the south, of Windsor Castle, Cooper's Hill, and the Forest Woods. About three hundred yards from the north front of the house stands a column, sixty-eight feet high, bearing on the top a colossal statue of Sir Edward Coke, by Rosa. The woods of the park shut out the view of West-End House, Gray's occasional residence, but the space is open from the mansion across the park, so as to take in the view both of the church and of a monument erected by the late Mr. Penn to Gray. Alighting from the carriage at a lodge, we enter the park just at the monument. This is composed of fine freestone, and consists of a large sarcophagus, sup- ported on a square pedestal, with inscriptions on each side. Three of them are selected from the Ode on Eton College and the Elegy. They are : Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, Muttering his wayward fancies he would rove ; Now drooping, woeful-wan, like one forlorn. Or craz'd with care, or cross'd in hopeless love. One morn I miss'd him on the custom'd hill, « Along the heath, and near his fav'rite tree ; Another came ; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he. The second is from the Ode: Ye distant spires ! ye antique towers ! That crown the watery glade. Where grateful Science still adores Her Henry's holy shade ; And ye, that from the stately brow Of Windsor's heights th' expanse below Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey. Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among Wanders the hoary Thames along His silver-winding way. STOKE -POGIS. 19 Ah, happy hills ! ah, pleasing shade ! Ah, fields belov'd in vain ! Where once my careless childhood stray'd, A stranger yet to pain ! I feel the gales that from ye blow, A momentary bliss bestow. The third is again from the Elegy: Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap, Each in his narrow cell forever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. The breezy call of incense-breathing morn. The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion or the echoing horn. No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. The fourth bears this inscription : This Monument, in. honour of Thomas Gray, Was erected A.D. 1799, Among the scenery Celebrated by that great Lyric and Elegiac Poet. He died in 1771, And lies unnoted in the adjoining Church-yard, Under the -Tomb-stone on which he piously And pathetically recorded the interment Of his Aunt and lamented Mother. This monument is in a neatly kept garden-like enclosure, with a winding walk approaching from the shade of the neighbouring trees. To the right, across the park, at some little distance, backed by fine trees, stands the rural little church and churchyard where Gray wrote his Elegy , and where he lies. As you walk on to this, the mansion closes the distant view between the woods with fine effect. The church has often been engraved, and is therefore tolerably familiar to the general reader. It consists of two barn-like structures, with tall roofs, set side by side, and the tower and 20 STOKE -POGIS, finely tapered spire rising above them at the northwest cor- ner. The church is thickly hung with ivy, where " The moping owl may to the moon complain Of such as, wandering near her secret bower, Molest her ancient, solitary reign." The structure is as simple and old-fashioned, both without and within, as any village church can well be. No village, however, is to be seen. Stoke consists chiefly of scattered houses, and this is now in the midst of the park. In the churchyard, " Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade. Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap, Each in his narrow cell forever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep." All this is quite literal ; and the tomb of the "poet himself, near the southeast window, completes the impression of the scene. It is a plain brick altar tomb, covered with a blue slate slab, and, besides his own ashes, contains those of his mother and aunt. On the slab are inscribed the following lines by Gray himself: "In the vault beneath are deposited, in hope of a joyful resurrection, the remains oi Mary Antrobus, She died unmarried, Nov. 5, 1749, aged sixty-six. In the same pious confidence, beside her friend and sister, here sleep the remains oi Dorothy (Jr^^, widow; the careful, tender mother of many children, one of whom alone had the misfortune to survive her. She died, March 11, 1753, aged LXXII.^' No testimony of the interment of Gray in the same tomb was inscribed anywhere till Mr. Penn, in 1799, erected the monument already mentioned, and placed a small slab in the wall, under the window, opposite to the tomb itself, recording the fact of Gray's burial there. The whole scene is well worthy of a summer day's stroll, especially for such as, pent in the metropolis, know how to enjoy the quiet freshness of the coun- try and the associations of poetry and the past. gray's monument, stoke park. ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD. ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD. The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea, The plowman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. 26 THOMAS GRAY. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight. And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds : Save that, from yonder ivy-mantled tower, Th*e moping owl does to the moon complain Of such as, wandering near her secret bower. Molest her ancient solitary reign. ELEGY IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD. 27 Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap, Each in his narrow cell forever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. 15 28 THOMAS GRAY. w^ ST if ■-: - The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, *No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. * » 20 ELEGY IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD. 29 For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care ; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share. 30 THOMAS GRAY, Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke; How jocund did they drive their team afield ! How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke ! 25 ELEGY IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD. 31 Let not Ambition mock their useful toil, Their homely joys, and destiny obscure ; Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and simple annals of the poor. 30 32 THOMAS GRAY, The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Await alike th' inevitable hoilr. 3S The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault, If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise ; Where, through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault, The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. 40 Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust ? Or Flattery soothe the dull cold ear of Death? Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid 4s Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire; Hands, that the rod of empire might have sway'd, Or wak'd to ecstasy the living lyre : But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page, Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll ; 50 Chill Penury repress'd their noble rage. And froze the genial current of the soul. ELEGY IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD, ZZ Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear; Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air. C 55 34 THOMAS GRAY, Some village Hampden, that with dauntless breast The little tyrant of his fields withstood, Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest, Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood. 60 Th' applause of listening senates to command, The threats of pain and ruin to despise. To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land. And read their history in a nation's eyes, Their lot forbade: nor circumscrib'd alone Their growing virtues, but their crimes confin'd • Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind, 65 ELEGY IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD. The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide, To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, Or heap- the shrine of Luxury and Pride With incense kindled at the Muse's flame. 35 70 Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife, Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray; Along the cool sequestered vale of life They kept the noiseless tenor of their way. 75 36 THOMAS GRAY. Yet even these bones from insult to protect, Some frai} memorial still erected nigh, With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck'd, Implores the passing tribute of a sigh. &) *■ **■ / Ca,£I\,. Their name, their years, spelt by th' unlettered Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply; And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die. ELEGY IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD. 37 For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er resigned, Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing lingering look behind ? 85 3B THOMAS GRAY. On some fond breast the parting soul relies, Some pious drops the closing eye requires ; Even from the tomb the voice of Nature cries, Even in our ashes live their wonted fires. 90 For thee, who, mindful of th' unhonour'd dead. Dost in these lines their artless tale relate. If chance, by lonely contemplation led. Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, 95 ELEGY IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD, 39 Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, "Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn. 40 THOMAS GRAY. "There at the foot of yonder nodding beech, That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by. ELEGY IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD. "Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn. Muttering his wayward fancies he would rove; Now drooping, woeful-wan, like one forlorn, Or craz'd with care, or cross'd in hopeless love. 41 105 "One morn I miss'd him on the custom'd hill. Along the heath, and near his favourite tree ; Another came; nor yet beside the rill. Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he ; ■^s,-^!^?^ -:> " The next, with dirges due in sad array, Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay Grav'd on*the stone beneath yon aged thorn.'' "5 42 THOMAS GRAY. THE EPITAPH. Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth A youth, to Fortune and to Fame unknown; Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth, And Melancholy mark'd him for her own. Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere, Heaven did a recompense as largely send ; He gave to Misery all he had, a tear ; He gain'd from Heaven ('twas all he wish'd) a friend. No farther seek his merits to disclose. Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, (There they alike in trembling hope repose) The bosom of his Father and his God. 125 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. ON THE SPRING. Lo ! where the rosy-bosom'd Hours, Fair Venus' train, appear, Disclose the long-expecting flowers, And wake the purple year ! The Attic warbler pours her throat, Responsive to the cuckoo's note. 46 THOMAS GRAY, The untaught harmony of spring ; While, whispering pleasure as they fly, Cool Zephyrs thro' the clear blue sky Their gathered fragrance fling. Where'er the oak's thick branches stretch A broader browner shade. Where'er the rude and moss-grown beech O'ercanopies the glade, Beside some water's rushy brink 15 With me the Muse shall sit, and think (At ease reclin'd in rustic state) How vain the ardour of the crowd, How low, how little are the proud. How indigent the great ! 20 Still is the toiling hand of Care ; The panting herds repose : Yet hark, how thro' the peopled air The busy murmur glows ! The insect youth are on the wing, 25 Eager to taste the honied spring. And float amid the liquid noon : Some lightly o'er the current skim, Some show their gayly-gilded trim Quick-glancing to the sun. 30 To Contemplation's sober eye Such is the race of Man ; And they that creep, and they that fly, Shall end where they began. ON THE SPRING. 47 Alike the busy and the gay 35 But flutter thro' Hfe's Httle day, In Fortune's varying colours drest : Brush'd by the hand of rough Mischance, Or chill'd by age, their airy dance They leave, in dust to rest. 40 Methinks I hear in accents low The sportive kind reply : Poor moralist ! and what art thou ? A solitary fly ! Thy joys no glittering female meets, 45 No hive hast thou of hoarded sweets, No painted plumage to display : On hasty wings thy youth is flown ; Thy sun is set, thy spring is. gone — We frolic while 'tis May. 50 ON THE DEATH OF A FAVOURITE CAT, Drozvned in a Tub of Gold Fishes, 'TwAS on a lofty vase's side. Where China's gayest art had dyed The azure flowers that blow; Demurest of the tabby kind, The pensive Selima, reclin'd, Gaz'd on the lake below. Her conscious tail her joy declar'd : The fair round face, the snowy beard, The velvet of her paws, Her coat, that with the tortoise vies, Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes, She saw; and purr'd applause. ON THE DEATH OF A FAVOURITE CAT. 49 Still had she gaz'd ; but midst the tide Two angel forms were seen to glide, The Genii of the stream : 15 Their scaly armour's Tyrian hue Through richest purple to the view Betray'd a golden gleam. The hapless nymph with wonder saw : A w^hisker first, and then a claw, 20 With manv an ardent wish, She stretched in vain to reach the prize. What female heart can gold despise? What Cat's averse to fish ? Presumptuous maid ! with looks intent 25 Again she stretch'd, again she bent, Nor knew the gulf between. (Malignant Fate sat by, and smil'd.) The slippery verge her feet beguil'd, She tumbled headlong in. 30 Eight times emerging from the flood, She mew'd to every watery God, Some speedy aid to send. No Dolphin came, no Nereid stirr'd : Nor cruel Tom, nor Susan heard. 35 A favourite has no frfend ! From hence, ye beauties, undeceiv'd, Know, one false step is ne'er retriev'd, And be with caution bold. Not all that tempts your wandering eyes 40 And heedless hearts is lawful prize, Nor all that glisters gold. D ON A DISTANT PROSPECT OF ETON COLLEGE, -Avapa>7ro9, iKavh -npScpaa^ ek to avcTT.xetv.-MENANDER. Ye distant spires, ye antique towers, That crown the watery glade, Where grateful Science still adores Her Henry's holy shade ; ON A DISTANT PROSPECT OF ETON COLLEGE, 5 1 And ye, that from the stately brow s Of Windsor's heights th' expanse below Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey. Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among Wanders the hoary Thames along His silver-winding way ; 10 Ah, happy hills ! ah, pleasing shade ! Ah, fields belov'd in vain ! AVhere once my careless childhood stray'd, A stranger yet to pain ! I feel the gales that from ye blow 15 A momentary bliss bestow, As, waving fresh their gladsome wing, My weary soul they seem to soothe. And, redolent of joy and youth, To breathe a second spring. 20 • Say, Father Thames, for thou hast seen Full many a sprightly race Disporting on thy margent green The paths of pleasure trace ; Who fojemost now delight to cleave 25 With pliant arm thy glassy wave ? The captive linnet which enthrall ? What idle progeny succeed To chase the rolling circle's speed, Or urge the flying ball ? 30 While some, on earnest business bent, Their murmuring labours ply 'Gainst graver hours that bring constraint To sweeten liberty. 52 THOMAS GRAY, Some bold adventurers disdain 35 The limits of their little reign, And unknown regions dare descry : Still as they run they look behind, They hear a voice in every wind, And snatch a fearful joy. 40 Gay hope is theirs by fancy fed, Less pleasing when possest; The tear forgot as soon as shed, The sunshine of the breast : Theirs buxom health of rosy hue, 45 Wild wit, invention ever new. And lively cheer of vigour born ; The thoughtless day, the easy night, The spirits pure, the slumbers light. That fly th' approach of morn. 50 Alas ! regardless of their doom, The little victims play ; No sense have they of ills to come, No care beyond to-day : Yet see how all around 'em wait 55 The ministers of human fate. And black Misfortune's baleful train ! Ah, show them where in ambush stand To seize their prey the murtherous band ! Ah, tell them, they are men ! 60 These shall the fury Passions tear. The vultures of the mind. Disdainful Anger, pallid Fear, And Shame that skulks behind ; ON A DISTANT PROSPECT OF ETON COLLEGE, 53 Or pining Love shall waste their youth, 65 Or Jealousy with rankling tooth, That inly gnaws the secret heart; And Envy wan, and faded Care, Grim-visag'd comfortless Despair, And Sorrow's piercing dart. 70 Ambition this shall tempt to rise, Then whirl the wretch from high, To bitter Scorn a sacrifice. And grinning Infamy. The stings of P'alsehood those shall try, 75 And hard Unkindness' alter'd eye. That mocks the tear it forced to flow;* And keen Remorse with blood defil'd, And moody Madness laughing wild Amid severest woe. 80 Lo ! in the vale of years beneath A grisly troop are seen, The painful family of Death, More hideous than their queen : This racks the joints, this fires the veins, 85 That every labouring sinew strains. Those in the deeper vitals rage : Lo ! Poverty, to fill the band. That numbs the soul with icy hand. And slow-consuming Age. 90 To each his sufferings : all are men. Condemned alike to groan; The tender for another's pain, Th' unfeeling for his own. 54 THOMAS GRAY, Yet, ah ! why should they know their fate, Since sorrow never comes too late. And happiness too swiftly flies ? Thought would destroy their paradise. No more; — where ignorance is bliss, Tis folly to be wise. 95 lOO APOLLO CITHARCEDUS. FROM THE VATICAN. THE PROGRESS OF POESY. A Pindaric Ode. G)Vai/Ta (TVV€.TOi